


Allegretto sostenuto

by KareliaSweet



Series: Tempo di [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal, Bottom Will, Curtain Fic, Dirty Talk, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, So much smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KareliaSweet/pseuds/KareliaSweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will inches his way towards Hannibal in their new life.</p><p>Love, and a bit with a dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hannibal sat silently in his leather armchair in the study, glass of wine in his hand. He was staring into the crackling fireplace, and Will watched him from the doorframe.

“Yes, Will?”

Hannibal did not turn in his chair, and Will chuckled.

“You always know when I’m watching you?”

He entered the study and sat on the matching sofa opposite Hannibal. “Or could you just smell me.”

Hannibal smiled and sipped his wine, eyes still on the fire. “Both.”

Will took Hannibal in at that moment, the relaxed lines of his shoulders, his steady breathing. He enjoyed witnessing him at peace.

He exhaled shakily. “Can we talk?”

“I believe we are talking, Will.”

Will shook his head. “No, I mean… I think you know what I mean, Hannibal.”

Hannibal turned to look at him. “Do I?”

Will soldiered on through Hannibal’s refined artifice. “Are you happy? With me?”

Hannibal looked genuinely puzzled. “Of course I am happy, Will.”

“No, I know you are, but we – us – I,” he began to stammer awkwardly.

He steeled himself and met Hannibal’s eyes. “I know the way you look at me. I know you want more.”

Hannibal’s eyes gave no indication of admission, but Will pressed on. “Am I wrong?”

Hannibal paused before setting down his wine glass. “No, Will, you are not wrong.”

They had danced around this subject without speaking of it ever since they had settled into their home, and although it opened a ball of anxiety within him, Will was glad to have finally addressed the glaringly obvious.

“Well. So,” he continued, “are you happy?”

Hannibal laughed lightly, “If you believe that my love for you is based purely on sexual desire, you have grossly underestimated me. I don’t believe you think me to be that base-minded, Will.”

“No, I know that,” Will said, “But, here, it’s just us now. Aren’t you going to get… bored?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’ve never really needed…. that”, he flapped a hand awkwardly, his face beginning to color. “But I think maybe you do.”

“And in that you are not wrong, Will. But what is stopping me from seeking to indulge my carnal appetites elsewhere?”

“I don’t want you to do that.” Will’s response was automatic and it both surprised and shamed him with its vehemence. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate, I can’t say things like that when I won’t-”

“Will, as I have told you before, you worry too much. I am happy. The sight of you makes me happy. Surely you know this.”

“I do.”

“Well, then.” He rose from his chair, wine glass back in his hand. “I don’t believe we need to discuss this any further.”

He placed his free hand gently on Will’s shoulder. “I am happy. Are you?”

Will lifted his eyes to meet his and fondly squeezed the hand on his shoulder. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Good.” Hannibal said, and moved to leave the room. He paused in the doorway for a moment.

“Although. Perhaps you would allow me to kiss you. On occasion. Not tonight.”

Will’s mouth was suddenly dry. He swallowed, coughing slightly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Hannibal smiled, tilted his glass slightly in a miniature toast. “Good night, Will.”

“Good night.”

Will sat and stared into the fire until the final embers died.

-x-

The next morning, Will awoke to the smell of Hannibal making frittata. His mouth began to water before his eyes fully opened, and he pulled himself out of bed, padding down the long hallway to the kitchen.

Hannibal greeted him with a wide smile. “Good morning, Will.”

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, and Hannibal slid a generous mug of French roast across the counter to him.

Will sipped at his coffee and regarded Hannibal at his element in the kitchen. Their kitchen. He identified most everything in the house as theirs, except for Hannibal’s bedroom. He had taken the master without complaints from Will, who needed very little outside of basic necessities.

Hannibal set down a plate heaped with eggs and exotic sliced fruits in front of him. “Breakfast.”

He took a seat next to Will with his own plate, and they began to dig in. Will replayed the previous night’s conversation in his head, but it became quickly apparent by Hannibal’s somewhat forced cheer that the subject would not be broached unless Will himself brought it up. They ate in silence together and Will cleaned the dishes after, as was his custom.

“So,” he began, toweling off the last of the cast-iron pans, “… would you like to kiss me?”

Hannibal looked him up and down, a touch of a smile flashed across his face.

“No.” he said succinctly, and without rancor.

“No?” Will felt a flush creeping up his cheeks.

“No.” Hannibal repeated.

Will’s mouth opened and shut a few times, each time he hoped an intelligent response would come forth, but his mind remained empty. He felt dishearteningly like a rejected teenager. He placed the pan down gently on the counter.

“Okay.”

He dried his hands on the towel and turned to hang it. Hannibal was suddenly behind him, not touching him, but the warmth of his body keenly felt. Will turned to face him. Hannibal’s eyes were kind but surprisingly unreadable.

“I will not kiss you _today_ , Will. Your mind is still processing the previous evening’s discussion and you feel it is an obligation. I would like to kiss you when you also would like to kiss me.”

“But what if I don’t-”

Hannibal cut him off before he could finish. “I will kiss you, when you ask me. Only then.”

His last sentence brokered no argument, and Will nodded mutely in assertion.

“Now,” Hannibal pressed on, “we have a busy day ahead of us. Adam Wheeler has murdered 17 young girls across three counties in the past 5 months and is planning his eighteenth. What do you suppose we pay him a visit?”

Will smiled, full and wide.

-x-

Hannibal was true to his word, and did not bring the subject up again. They spent most days either planning or paying their visits to the victims Hannibal chose. They carried out their work in a simple harmony that, since the Red Dragon, had become effortless second nature. When they were not working, they spent most evenings in peace in the study, Hannibal in his armchair, Will leaning against his knee by the fire. Occasionally, Hannibal would reach out a hand and idly run his fingers through Will’s hair, and occasionally Will would lean into it, but Hannibal never sought to touch him further. They continued on in their life, happy and content, but Will began to feel the fraying of seams. A strange itch had started to reside within his belly and no scratching could assuage it.

After three weeks, he could stand the itch no longer. They were in the study in their usual arrangement, Will’s knees tucked underneath him and Hannibal’s hand absent-mindedly playing with his curls as he read. Will had relaxed into Hannibal’s touch so thoroughly that his head was lolling against Hannibal’s right knee, eyes closed. He felt blissful, yet a current just under his skin kept him a hair’s breadth from peace.

“Hannibal?”

Hannibal did not cease in his ministrations.

“Yes?”

“I think I’d like you to kiss me now.”

The hand stilled. All sound in the room was suddenly silenced, except the slight inhale of Hannibal’s breath and the crackle of the fire.

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Will answered honestly, “but I’d still like you to.”

He raised his head from Hannibal’s knee. He could not hear him breathe.

“Hannibal?”

An eternity seemed to pass in the instant before Hannibal exhaled again.

“Could you stand please?”

Will stood, felt Hannibal stand behind him. He still hadn’t looked at him since making his request and his nerves felt like livewires. Hannibal touched him gently on the shoulder and he turned to face him.

Hannibal’s gaze was pure tenderness, but there was a fragile uncertainty beneath it that made Will’s heart ache. Will’s lips felt suddenly dry and he licked them involuntarily. Hannibal cradled Will’s cheek in his left hand, a gesture intimately familiar to them both, yet entirely new. Gently and without force, Hannibal leaned in and kissed Will lightly on the mouth. Will’s eyes had closed of their own accord and he leaned into the kiss, just slightly. Hannibal did not press further, his mouth remained closed, and before Will could think to reciprocate, or process if he wanted to, Hannibal broke the kiss as gently as it had began.

They stared at each other a moment, quiet in this new discovery. Hannibal’s eyes were dark and wet.

“Thank you,” he said, and left the study without another word.

Will watched him leave but did not follow. He lifted a hand to his mouth and ran it along the seam of his lip, trying to feel if the kiss was still there. The fire continued to crackle, but Will stood there, hand pressed against his mouth until the room was dark.

-x-

He wasn’t sure how he had gotten to the doorway of Hannibal’s bedroom that night, only suddenly realized he was standing there, his heart pounding frenetically. He could see the light on and knew Hannibal was still awake, but couldn’t bring himself to cross the threshold.

“Is there something you need, Will?”

Of course Hannibal knew he was there. He’d known he was there before Will had.

Will entered Hannibal’s room. He rarely visited him in this space, and was always a taken a little off guard by its opulence. Hannibal was sitting upright in his king-sized bed, shirtless and covered by glossy chocolate satin sheets. He glanced up from the book he was reading and removed his pince nez. Will still wasn’t sure what to say, what he wanted, but he was there now, and he knew he wasn’t leaving.

“Could I sleep here tonight?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and Will corrected his course. “Just… next to you?”

“Of course, Will.”

Will swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

He climbed into bed next to Hannibal, ample space between them, and turned on his side. He immediately felt rude, despite himself, and turned to lay on his back. He looked askance at Hannibal, but he had gone back to his book. He reached his left hand out almost absent mindedly and patted Will fondly on the shoulder.

“Good night.”

Will turned back on his side. “Good night.”

He dreamed that night of Hannibal’s mouth and hands upon him, whispering words that were both tender and filthy. He awoke in the middle of his own orgasm with a shout, flushed and raw. Hannibal was sleeping soundly next to him, or appeared to be.

Rattled and confused, he slipped out of the bed and shut himself up within the master bathroom. He turned the faucet over the sink and splashed some water onto his face, running down a list of excuses he thought might diffuse the situation. Each sounded flimsier than the last, and after regaining his composure, he opened the door back to Hannibal’s bedroom, resigning himself to an awkward discussion.

The bed was empty and Hannibal had already changed the sheets.

-x-

Will returned to sleeping in his room and neither of them spoke of the incident. Three days later, Hannibal greeted him at breakfast already fully dressed in a three-piece suit.

“I have some business that I need to deal with alone. I need to leave this morning.”

“Oh.” Will’s heart dropped to his stomach. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three days at the most.”

Will knew better than to question. Trust had been established between them long before then, and he knew that if Hannibal didn’t want him there, he probably didn’t want to be there. Still, three days seemed like a vast gulf of time considering they hadn’t spent a day apart since they’d begun their new life together.

“Are you leaving now?”

“After breakfast. I made bacon and leek quiche.”

They ate in silence, Will processing the new information in his head. Hannibal would be gone for three days. He would be alone for three days. It seemed impossibly long.

“You’ll be fine, Will.”

Will chuckled and moved to sock Hannibal lightly on the shoulder. “Stop reading my mind.”

Before Will could retract his arm, Hannibal took his loose fist and held his hand fast, uncurling the fingers. He ran his own fingers along Will’s palm before meeting his eyes.

“May I kiss you goodbye?”

Will didn’t breathe in the space before his answer. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Hannibal smiled and stood, drawing Will to him, still holding his hand. Will slid gracelessly from his chair and stood toe-to-toe with Hannibal, his heart pounding, right arm hanging limply at his side.

Hannibal regarded him again with that infinite tenderness. The moment stretched like taffy between them, and Will felt a flush creep up his cheeks. He began to open his mouth to speak, to ease the unbearable tension, and Hannibal descended.

He began softly, but Will could feel passion coiled beneath it like a spring. Hannibal teased at first, with slow damp kisses that grew steadily insistent, until Will’s mouth opened easily under his and their tongues met in a wet slide. Will heard a moan and realized it was coming from his own throat. Hannibal dropped Will’s hand in favor of taking a fistful of his t-shirt, pulling and twisting it tight against his lower back. Will in turn  put his right arm to good use and clutched the back of Hannibal’s head, his fingers clenching and releasing Hannibal’s hair in fits and starts. Will felt himself hurtling towards a point of no return and began to move a shaky hand lower, until Hannibal began to pull back, slowing his pace with lazy kisses placed alternately between Will’s lips and cheeks. He ended with a final press of his mouth to Will’s, firm and possessive, before he raised his head and kissed Will’s forehead. Will felt like he had been marked with a brand.

Hannibal ran a hand over Will’s hair and gazed at him fondly.

“I shall miss you.”

He kissed him one last time, a whisper of a kiss barely there and gone before Will could think to lean into it. Before he could form words, Hannibal had picked up his suitcase and was gone.

“Goodbye,” he said to no one. He cleaned the dishes in a weighted silence, and retired to the study.

That night, he slept in Hannibal’s bed.

-x-

After two days, Hannibal phoned Will to say he had executed business quicker than expected and would be home that evening. Will’s heart pounded with something unnamed the entire day, and he flitted about the house from room to room, cleaning things that were already spotless, arranging things that were already perfectly placed.

Hannibal entered their home at precisely 9pm, and Will went to him like water released from a dam.

Hannibal’s arms were around him instantly, and at first Will just let himself be held, pressing his cheek tightly to Hannibal’s chest. Will realized they hadn’t held each other this tightly and intimately since their tumble off a cliff and smiled despite himself. How far they had come in this new life.

Will was the first to break the embrace, and he looked up at Hannibal.

“I missed you.” He smiled almost sheepishly but did not break their gaze.

Hannibal looked down at him, solemn but fond. “May I-”

“God yes,” Will said, and met Hannibal’s mouth.

They kissed hungrily and without finesse, clutching and grabbing as though they had been starved without the other. Will slid his mouth down, kissing a wet line down Hannibal’s jaw, biting softly. Hannibal groaned and moved a trembling hand slowly across Will’s back, his fingers brushing slowly towards the curve of his ass. Will felt himself growing desperately hard and ground his hips into Hannibal’s.

Will tore his mouth away and regarded Hannibal with a hunger he couldn’t name.

“I want you to touch me.”

Hannibal stilled his motion. “Where?”

Will cocked a baffled eyebrow. “On my c-”

“Yes, I know where on your body, Will. Where in our house would you like me to touch you?”

The question had an unexpected weight and Will paused. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He hadn’t thought past kissing Hannibal when he came through the door and suddenly every possibility was hurtling towards him, most of them he was decidedly unprepared for.

Definitely not the bedroom.

“The study,” Will said. It was their shared space, it was safe, and he had already kindled the fire in preparation for Hannibal’s return.

Hannibal nodded and Will silently took his hand and led him to the study, careful to not let their connection sever lest he gained his wits.

They stood holding each by the fire for several long moments, kissing in lazy, slow, rhythms. Hannibal’s hands moved to the button of Will’s jeans and stilled for a moment. Will felt the hesitancy and placed his hands on Hannibal’s, nodding against his mouth.

“I said I wanted you to touch me,” he rasped, “don’t be afraid.”

He barely finished the word ‘afraid’ before Hannibal shoved him roughly down into the couch. Hannibal kneeled before him, his broad chest wedging itself between Will’s thighs.

“I am not afraid,” he growled, and palmed his hand against Will’s now apparent and painful erection. “Are you?”

Will shook his head, barely able to form a consonant, and in a surprisingly fluid movement, Hannibal had undone his jeans and freed his already leaking cock, gripping it in his right hand. He began stroking him in long, smooth motions, teasing him with an occasional brief swipe of his thumb against the head. Will dropped his head against the back of the couch and made guttural noises. Hannibal was wringing his pleasure out of him deliciously slow.

“Do you know how it feels to hold you hard in my hand, Will?” he kept his strokes languorous and even. “Do you know how long I have wanted – have waited for this? For you?”

“Nng- Hannibal…” Will could barely breathe, let alone speak.

Hannibal leaned forward, his hand still on Will’s cock. “Look at me.”

Will tilted his head down and was met with a gaze full of fire. Hannibal reached out with his left hand and grasped the back of Will’s neck. He leaned his forehead against Will’s and began to pump faster.

“Did you dream of me the night you came in my bed?”

Will blinked wetly and licked at Hannibal’s mouth. “Yes,” he breathed, “I dreamed of this.”

Will’s cock was dripping in Hannibal’s hand and he arched his hips into his touch.

“Oh God…”

Suddenly Hannibal stopped his frenzied pumping, and Will cried out.

“Whuh?”

Hannibal planted his palms on either side of Will’s thighs and leaned in close to his ear, his teeth grazing the nape of his neck. “May I put my mouth on you?”

Will wasn’t sure if it was the sinful question itself, or the excruciatingly polite tone he posed it in, but either way he was undone. He garbled out a pleading ‘yes’, and found himself dragging out the last sibilant sound as Hannibal’s mouth was already upon him.

Hannibal licked him generously from root to tip before taking him in his mouth entirely, sucking with abandon. Will bucked his hips and Hannibal took all of him greedily. Will bucked again and Hannibal used the opportunity to take his ass in his hands, holding him in place to better angle Will’s cock down his throat. He sucked up to the very tip, swirling small licks upon the head before sucking tightly and plunging down again. Will hadn’t been touched like this, and not this well, in years, and found himself lost in the sensation, already close to untethering.

Hannibal, for his part, seemed to be enjoying it almost as much – if not more – by the wanton sounds he was making. Will looked down at him and Hannibal’s eyes caught his. The hunger within them made him hitch his breath and he gasped for air, rapidly unspooling. Hannibal continued to suck greedily, his tongue flat against the base of his cock.

“Hannibal… Christ, Hannibal, I’m going to-”

He placed both hands on the sides of Hannibal’s head as a warning, but it only spurred Hannibal to suck harder until Will’s fingers clutched into his hair and he came with a blinding heat, fucking his hips up into Hannibal’s mouth in desperate jerks. He felt Hannibal swallow around him and moaned softly. Hannibal slowed his pace but continued to leisurely suck and lick as Will came down, lowering his hips and his brain back to earth. Hannibal slowly released Will’s cock from his mouth, placing a final lick to the sensitive head with a flick of his tongue. Will gave a last tiny jerk of his hips and sank into the couch, depleted.

Hannibal wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and sat back onto his knees, looking satisfied with his handiwork.

Will raised his head to regard Hannibal and smiled lazily. Hannibal smiled back, then stood and straightened his trousers, and Will realized with some amusement that Hannibal was still fully dressed in his suit. Then his eyes roved downwards and Will could see the outline of Hannibal’s arousal clear as day.

“Do you want me to-?”

He gestured at Hannibal’s obvious erection, and Hannibal looked down as though he were surprised by it. He looked back at Will, cautious.

“Do you _want_ to?”

Still a raw nerve from the pleasure he had received, Will was caught off guard. From the moment Hannibal had stepped into the door everything had happened so quickly he hadn’t had time to second guess anything. But now, here, faced with the prospect of touching another man so intimately, he was at a loss. “I’m not sure,” he answered honestly, and felt his stomach drop, but Hannibal didn’t seem to mind his response.

“Then I shall take care of this myself.”

Will felt a shamed blush creep up his cheeks. “But you just-” he gestured meekly at his crotch.

“And it is an act I have performed before. Though,” he smiled, “never enjoyed so highly. You, Will, have not performed any act of this nature before. I would not rush you to places you are not yet comfortable.”

He moved to leave, and Will grabbed at his wrist.

“Wait.”

Hannibal looked at him curiously and Will patted the space on the couch next to him.

“You could take care of it here.”

It seemed like a silly gesture, but he wanted to be involved in Hannibal’s release somehow, if not by his own mouth or hand, then at least by his presence. Hannibal, for his part, did not question, only nodded and sat next to Will.

“Will you talk to me while I do this?”

Will licked his suddenly dry lips. “What do you want me to say?”

Hannibal unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down his hips. Will could see the outline of his erect cock through his briefs, and kept staring as Hannibal slowly rubbed himself.

“Tell me what it felt like when I touched you.”

He unfettered his cock from its confines and began to stroke lightly.

“It felt… good. Really good. I don’t remember ever being touched like that.”

“Yes?”

Beads of pre-come began to leak out, and Hannibal used the lubrication to continue stroking himself in earnest.

“Yeah,” Will pressed on, “feeling your mouth on my cock, watching you suck me… God, Hannibal, I could have fucked your mouth forever.

Hannibal grunted softly and began to pant open-mouthed. Will watched in awe as Hannibal stroked harder, sliding his thumb over the tip of his cock in the same way he had touched Will.

“The way you touched me, it was like I was home. You knew every part of me. You know every part of me.”

A wall within him began to crumble as he watched Hannibal so bare next to him. A secret longing that he had shut off from himself suddenly burst forth.

“Let me touch you.”

Hannibal’s frenzied jerks stilled and he met Will’s eyes.

“Yes,” he hissed out, and Will inched closer, closing the gap between them. He reached out and took Hannibal in his hand and Hannibal immediately groaned, loud and desperate. Will buried his face into Hannibal’s neck and began to lick and suck the pulse points.

“God you’re hard… you feel so good… how do you feel so good…” he continued to murmur into Hannibal’s skin, stroking hard and fast, nibbling along Hannibal’s jaw.

“Will…” Hannibal gasped out. “My Will.”

He reached up and seized Will’s face in his hands, pulling his mouth towards him. Will kissed him deeply and broke apart to whisper “mine” against Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal arched his hips sharply and cried out, kissing Will desperately and groaning into his mouth as he came all over his hand.

They sat together, exchanging short, sloppy kisses as they regained their breath. Hannibal smiled almost drunkenly at Will before he pulled back, leaning over the arm of the couch to take a handful of tissues from an ornate tissue box. He wiped up the mess as best he could, and Will curled into his side, his body pressed to his, shoulder to hip.

Hannibal turned to kiss Will’s shoulder. “Thank you, Will.”

He reached out and pet Will’s thigh lightly, reverently.

“If this is all we shall ever do, I will be satisified.”

Then he rose with surprising grace, considering the state they were both in, and left the study.

Will watched him leave, sat for a few moments, mourning the sudden loss of Hannibal’s warmth.

Then he stood and followed Hannibal into the master bedroom. Judging by the sound of running water, Hannibal had gone into his bathroom to clean up.  Will took it upon himself to sit on Hannibal’s bed, and waited. He paused a moment, then stripped himself bare and got underneath the covers. He heard the faucet shut off, and watched Hannibal exit the bathroom, equally naked. Hannibal seemed pleased but not surprised to see Will in his bed. He climbed under the covers and opened his arms to Will, who moved into his embrace, and slung a leg over his.

“I won’t,” Will said, kissing Hannibal’s chin. Hannibal pulled Will close against him and smiled into his hair.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Will awoke the next morning with Hannibal pressed against him in a smooth curve, his right arm loosely draped over his side. He stretched against him, testing the new feeling of a man’s body so intimately close to his, and he felt the brush of Hannibal’s erection against his thigh. Automatically he tensed, his body unused to the sensation, questioning and unsure of how to proceed.

Hannibal was clearly already awake, as he felt the tension in Will’s body and summarily distanced himself. He removed his arm delicately and rose from the bed without a word, padding silently to his bathroom and quietly closing the door. Will heard the sound of the shower beginning to run and frowned. He toyed with the idea of joining him in there, but wasn’t sure what exactly he would do once he opened the bathroom door. Climb in the shower with him? Warmth flooded his belly as images flashed across his mind: him, on his knees, sucking Hannibal keenly as water sluiced over their bodies. Another, of Hannibal behind him, driving into him. Another, only now he was inside Hannibal, biting into his shoulder hard enough to leave a beautiful welt. Will looked down and was not surprised to find himself already quite uncomfortably hard. He hopped out of bed and crossed to the bathroom door. His hand hesitated for a moment on the handle, wondering which of his mental images he would choose to act on, and in that second, he heard the water shut off.

That had to have been the fastest shower Hannibal had ever taken. Most mornings he luxuriated in them, and would greet him in the kitchen with heat still rising off his skin, smelling of citrus and fresh spice. Will wondered when he had started noticing so keenly what Hannibal smelled like. He heard Hannibal’s footsteps come towards the door, and panicking, he retreated, exiting Hannibal’s bedroom and returning to his own. He sat on his bed for a moment, elbows pressed to knees, his head in his hands. He felt suddenly 15 years old, awkward and ungainly. How could he be so simply undone around a man who had known him so intimately for years without ever touching him? Taking in a deep breath, he crossed to his dresser, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and willed his erection to leave him in peace. The warm smell of something sweet and doughy hit his nostrils; Hannibal had already started breakfast. Will grabbed a t-shirt and mulled over the benefits of greeting him with or without it, decided on with, then without, then with again. Cursing his sudden adolescence, he yanked the shirt over his head and walked out to the kitchen. Hannibal stood at the stove, already dressed for the day in a pressed linen shirt and dark slacks. Will took in the sight of Hannibal’s back, admiring the corded muscle moving underneath the lines of his shirt. He crossed the kitchen and stood behind Hannibal, slid an arm around his waist and pressed a tentative kiss to his shoulder.

Hannibal tensed.

Will’s world turned temporarily upside down. He stepped, almost stumbled, back, as though he had been burned.

Hannibal turned, wooden spoon in one hand and a cordial smile on his face.

“Good morning, Will.”

“Uh… morning?”

Nothing in Hannibal’s expression was betraying his emotions and Will felt an odd churning in his stomach.

“Please, sit. Breakfast is almost ready.” He handed Will his customary mug of morning coffee and turned back to stir the sauce.

Will sat at the kitchen island, staring ruefully at Hannibal’s back, trying to read it as though it were a palm.

After four minutes of eternity, Hannibal met him with two plates.

“Walnut-stuffed French toast with blueberry coulis and maple sausage.”

Will muttered out a low thank you and picked up his fork. Hannibal reached out and stilled his movement. Will’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Hannibal’s first voluntary touch upon him that day.

“I hope I did not make you uncomfortable this morning.”

Coiled tension left Will’s shoulders and he shook his head. “No, God, no you didn’t. I just – I’ve never – I was surprised but it didn’t – I wasn’t-” He took a breath. “I would have joined you. In the shower.”

The sharp inhale and flare of Hannibal’s nostrils told Will all he needed to know and he smiled, but Hannibal neither smiled nor moved to touch him further. He removed his hand from Will’s gently, keeping it next to him on the table.

“I have a proposition for you, Will.”

Will blinked. “A what?”

Hannibal regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then continued. “As I’m sure you are aware, I very much enjoyed the events of the previous evening.” He paused and looked Will over. “It would appear that you did as well.”

Will chuckled wryly. “I would think that was obvious.”

“However, I also know that this is the first time you have had an encounter of this nature with a man, and that your emotions towards me might be abetting your sexual urges.”

Will frowned. “I honestly don’t know where you’re going with this.”

“I am concerned that you may need some distance to determine if you wish to continue down this path. My proposition is this: we do not engage in further activities for one week. You may process your emotions and allow yourself to determine if you desire to pursue our sexual relationship further. If you do not, we continue as we have been.”

 “Hannibal, that’s- this is ridiculous. I know you want this.”

“Yes Will, but that is not the subject for debate. I want you to be sure of your passions before you act upon them further, rather than feel an obligation to me which you may grow to resent.”

Will turned the idea over in his mind. It made a certain amount of sense but also seemed deeply flawed.

“Hannibal? Why do I feel like this is just a ploy to make me _really_ want to get in your pants?”

“It isn’t,” Hannibal said, and Will believed him. He picked his fork back up and began to dig into his French toast. Suddenly, he felt sweet warmth on his back as Hannibal pressed flush up against him, his mouth a hair’s breadth from his ear

“But if it were, I don’t suppose either of us would mind the outcome, would we?”

The words were hot and laced with promise. Heat pooled in the pit of Will’s stomach and he felt his cock stirring. Then the warmth behind him receded as quickly as it had appeared, and Hannibal left the kitchen without another word.

Will stared into the middle distance, his breakfast completely forgotten.

“I suppose not.”

-x-

“So what about touching?” Will asked after taking his morning shower, in which he had definitely not hastily jerked off to the thought of Hannibal licking blueberry coulis off his aching dick.

“What do you mean?”

Hannibal was behind his desk in the study, staring intently at his laptop screen. Will crossed to the desk and Hannibal smoothly closed the computer.

“Well, for this week – are we not going to touch at all? I feel like that might be weirder, we’ve never _not_ touched before.”

“Touching is acceptable, Will, within the parameters that we always have. I think it would be best if we continue to sleep in separate rooms. Though,” he added clinically, “it may be easier to avoid physical contact entirely.”

“Easier for me or for you?”

Hannibal did not answer, but reopened his computer. Whatever he saw on the screen had made him smile, and he looked up at Will.

“Would you like to meet him?”

Will frowned slightly. Hannibal normally didn’t show him their upcoming victims in a PowerPoint presentation.

“Meet who?”

Hannibal turned the screen to show an image of the most beautiful puppy Will had ever seen.

“He’s a Cava-lon. Not quite purebred, but I can assure you he has a lovely temperament.”

Will felt like he was going to cry. “You… you got us a dog?”

“Where do you think I was the past two days?”

Will shook his head and laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I assumed you were murdering someone!”

Hannibal looked genuinely hurt. “Do you honestly think I could ever kill without you, Will?”

It sounded almost romantic. Will raked a hand through his hair and smiled. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Well then. I met Dante and found him most agreeable. He will be ready for us to take him home in a month.”

“A month?! But that’s so-” He stopped to change gears. “Hang on… you named him _Dante_?”

Hannibal nodded. “I think it is an excellent name.”

Will sighed loudly at him, but there was no malice in it. “Of _course_ you would.”

A grin split his lips and he felt tears prick at his eyes despite himself. “You got us a dog.”

“I did.”

“You know, I could kiss you right now.”

Hannibal cocked an eyebrow. “Could you?”

He crossed behind Hannibal’s oak desk, planting a hand on either side of the heavy arms of his chair. He leaned in slowly, tilting his head, Hannibal’s breath warm and soft against his cheek. Will darted out his tongue to lick his own lips, the very tip of his tongue catching ever so slightly against the fullness of Hannibal’s top lip.

“I could,” he whispered into Hannibal’s mouth, “but I won’t.”

He released his hold on Hannibal’s chair and turned without a word to leave the study.

“Oh,” he tossed over his shoulder, “you can call him Dante. I’m calling him Donny.”

-x-

The first two days passed without incident. Will felt increasingly aware of Hannibal’s presence, but they chose not to tease each other as they had the first day. The air however, sparked with tension and every look, every slight hand graze, filled Will with a deep gnawing want. He knew Hannibal felt the same, but he had grown frustratingly practiced at hiding it.

On the evening of the third day, Will decided to try and crack Hannibal’s practiced artifice. He may not be able to touch him, but he wanted to see the need in Hannibal that he knew so desperately shone out of his own eyes.

After saying goodnight to Hannibal in the study, he went to his bedroom, leaving the door ajar. He stripped himself bare and climbed onto his bed, casting the covers aside so the sight of him would be impossible to miss.

It didn’t take him long to get hard, he’d been planning this all evening, and the thought that Hannibal might be seeing what he was about to do made him grow and swell to fullness. He reached down and began to slowly stroke himself. In his mind’s eye, it was Hannibal’s hand upon him, and a small groan escaped his throat unbidden, his head lolling slightly against the headboard. He thrust up into his hand and began to increase the pace of his strokes, pausing to rub the base of his palm against the head, spreading his natural lubrication and then pulling back down. He stared intently at the crack in the doorframe, willing Hannibal to appear and witness him being utterly debaucherous. He let out another moan, this time more for effect than pleasure, and his wish was granted.

Hannibal appeared in the doorway, his eyes dark. Will met his eyes and continued to tug on his cock, licking his lips wantonly. He saw Hannibal shudder, let his gaze rove downwards. Even in the silhouette of darkness, he could see that Hannibal was hard. Bingo. He stared at the outline of Hannibal’s cock and slowed his strokes, savoring the heady knowledge that he was the cause of Hannibal’s arousal, had caused it without touching him. He ran his eyes back up Hannibal’s body to meet his gaze again and his breath caught in his throat. Hannibal was staring at him, into him, with a fierce and raw need that wrapped around Will’s bones. Will groaned softly and his hips jerked up unbidden into his hand. His began to pick up his pace, stuttering breaths exiting his body as he felt himself climb towards release.

Hannibal continued to stare and did not move to touch himself, but he was fucking Will with his gaze as surely as there was blood in his veins. Will could almost feel Hannibal’s hand upon him, Hannibal’s mouth against the base of his cock, Hannibal’s fingers in his –

“Come,” Hannibal said, and Will did.

He spilled over himself with a hoarse cry, his orgasm shocking him with its violence. Hannibal’s eyes did not leave his until the last pulse shuddered through him.

Then, without a word, Hannibal was gone, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

-x-

The next morning, Will awoke feeling victorious and sated. He jumped out of bed with a spring in his step and went to greet Hannibal in the kitchen. He rounded the corner with a triumphant grin on his face, prepared to gloat, but before he could say a word he felt the air leave his lungs and his throat went dry as sandpaper.

Hannibal was standing in the kitchen, mug of Earl Grey in his hand, wearing only a towel.

Will swallowed hard and said nothing. He had clearly just come out of the shower. Small drops of water ran in little rivulets down his shoulders, stopping to nestle in the soft curls on his chest. His towel was wrapped sinfully low, and Will could see the crease of each hipbone. A tiny hint of tuft peeked out of the towel and Will found himself fighting the urge to bury his face in it.

“Good morning, Will.”

Will opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then turned around and walked straight into his bathroom. He jumped into the shower, turned the water on full and began to touch himself, muttering alternate curses and praises in Hannibal’s name.

Hannibal remained in the kitchen, sipping his tea, victorious.

-x-

On the fifth day, they murdered two sex traffickers and strung their bodies together in a parody of a lover’s pose. They worked together as seamlessly as ever, their dance practiced and violently beautiful as always, but afterwards Will felt slightly hollow, and they did not speak on their journey home.

They went silently to their separate rooms that evening, but even Hannibal looked pained as he said goodnight, his eyes forlorn and full of need. Will was restless, his skin crackling with electricity and he paced the floor of his bedroom before throwing caution to the wind and crossing the hall to Hannibal’s room. His door was closed, but he heard the muffled groans from within. Will rested a palm on the door, his body aching with longing.

Another groan, louder, strained and deep, then, “Will”, half prayer half shout. Will kept his palm to the door, feeling Hannibal’s orgasm through the grain.

He slowly slid his hand away as he felt Hannibal’s aftershocks recede, and turned and went back to bed. Minutes later he came with a sharp shout into his sheets, Hannibal’s name fresh in his mouth.

-x-

On the sixth day, Hannibal slid an envelope across the table at breakfast.

“I have tickets to the opera tomorrow evening. ‘The Tales of Hoffmann’. Would you care to accompany me?”

Will opened the envelope and examined the tickets. Box seats. He would have expected nothing less. He smiled, attempting coyness.

“Are you asking me on a date, Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal almost had the good grace to blush, but he cleared his throat and composed himself. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Will looked down at the tickets, then back at Hannibal. “I’ll think about it”, he sassed, and smacked the side of Hannibal’s thigh as he turned to leave the kitchen.

Hannibal’s hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist, pulling Will flush against him.

“Don’t be rude, Will,” he breathed into the curve of his neck. He felt Hannibal press his nose into the side of his jawline and inhale deeply. Will groaned and leaned into him, pressing his back against Hannibal’s firm chest. He could feel the beginnings of Hannibal’s hardness pressing into his thigh. Then, just as suddenly as he had been captured, he was released, and there was nothing but empty air behind him.

He decided to go for a run to clear his head, and when he returned he found a tuxedo, clearly tailor made for him, hanging on his door. Pinned to the lapel was a small gold firefly.

-x-

On the morning of the seventh day, Will knew he could wait no longer. He hopped brightly out of bed, prepared to greet Hannibal with mouth and hands.

He was surprised to greet an empty kitchen, save for a mug of coffee, a plate of eggs benedict and a small note in flowing cursive. It was addressed to Will.

_Will,_

_I hope the past seven days have proved enlightening to you._

_I wish to give you this day to reflect alone. Tonight I shall take you to the opera. What you wish to do when we return home, I leave in your hands._

_I will be here with a car to pick you up at seven o’clock._

_Yours,_

_Hannibal_

Will spent the day pacing restlessly, his body a live, abraded nerve. He tried to sit and read in the study, but the restless jerking of his knee prevented him from concentrating for more than five minutes. He ran outside in the rain for two hours until his muscles were nothing but fire and ache, then sat on the floor of his shower, letting the cool water temper the fever within him.

Time seemed to stretch for a decade until the sun slowly began to sink below the horizon. He dressed himself in his tuxedo and applied a dab of the exotic cologne Hannibal had gotten him months ago. He hardly ever wore it, but he knew that Hannibal would be smelling him everywhere tonight, and he wanted to present a banquet.

At 6:53, he stood at the door, nervous as a bride. He adjusted his lapel pin for the seventh time and checked his reflection in the foyer mirror. He looked handsome and, for once, he knew it.

There was a knock on the door at 6:58, and Will swung the door open before the last rap could sound. Hannibal stood before him in a matching tuxedo, clearly in his element and radiating desire. They drank the sight of each other in for a long beat, then Hannibal cleared his throat, his eyes shining.

“You look,” and his voice caught, “you are majestic, Will.”

“Thanks,” Will replied, “you, you too.”  
  
Hannibal held out his arm and Will placed a hand in the crook of his elbow. They walked down the driveway to the car, the air buzzing between them.

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m going to prom?” Will joked.

Hannibal did not respond, only opened the car door for him and then slid into the seat next to him. He shut the door and tapped on the glass partition in front of them.  

They rode together in exquisite silence, Will basking in the sensation of mutual need that thrummed between them. Hannibal did not lay a hand on him for the entire car ride, only offering his arm upon arrival when they exited the car.

He maintained a respectful distance as they walked to their seats, but allowed a hand to rest on the small of Will’s back as they climbed the stairs. Will pressed back into him slightly, and felt the graze of Hannibal’s thumb, soft and easy.

Hannibal gestured politely for Will to take his seat first, taking the opportunity to lean down and smell his neck.

“You’re wearing the cologne I bought you.”

Will colored slightly. “Yeah, I figured this was the right occasion.”

“You figured correctly.”

Will smiled softly. He felt positively giddy.

“Of course, that’s not all I can smell.” Hannibal said, and the curtain rose before Will could choke out a response.

-x-

Will found himself more enamored with the opera than he expected to be. He wondered if that was perhaps because Hannibal was beside him, and he was feeding off the joy Hannibal felt when he experienced transcendence in art.

At the beginning of the third act, a barcarolle began to play, and Will became transfixed. He leaned forward slightly in his seat, letting the music flow in and through him. The lilting waltz rocked his body, and he was overcome with a deep rush of love; aching, tender and ephemeral. This must be one of Hannibal’s favorite pieces, he thought, and turned to look at him, eager to watch him experience something that was clearly so profound to him.

Hannibal was not looking at the stage.

Hannibal was looking only at him, his eyes more naked than Will had ever seen them. His gaze was yearning, worshipping, a fixed star that could steer his course through tempests.

For a very long time, Will had known that Hannibal loved him. But only now did he understand it.

And only now did he understand how deeply he loved him back. His eyes filled with silent unshed tears, the world around him forgotten.

The barcarolle drew to a sweet and melancholy close, and a single tear ran down Will’s face. They had not stopped looking at each other, and it was only when the swell of applause reached their ears that they realized they were still in their box at the opera.

Hannibal reached out and wiped the tear from Will’s face with the pad of his thumb.

“Now, do you see?” he asked.

Will nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I see.”

-x-

They drove home in quiet reverence, the air around them fragile and thin as gossamer. Will’s heart was full in his throat with things he couldn’t put to words. He wanted Hannibal to touch him, but Hannibal had already touched him, was already touching him. This was no longer about sex, or quenching his lust. He wanted Hannibal to be part of him, to join him as surely as his mind had joined with his. He realized now why Hannibal had made him wait. As much as it had been a game, it had been a test. To see if he wanted to just fuck him, or make love, because Hannibal was only capable of making love to Will. Will’s body hummed in anticipation as the car pulled into the drive way.

Hannibal opened the front door for Will and turned to see the driver off. Will stood silently in the dark, his fingers twitching and eager to touch. He began to shuck off his tuxedo jacket, then stopped. He wanted Hannibal to remove every piece of clothing on his body.

He heard the click and lock of the door and Hannibal took two steps towards him.

“Have you made your decision?” Hannibal asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Will said, and took Hannibal into his arms. It was a foregone conclusion and always had been.

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, Hannibal’s cheek pressed to the top of Will’s head, nuzzling against him.

They drew apart in tandem, taking each other in. Will slowly stripped Hannibal of his tuxedo jacket in the dark foyer. He folded it as carefully as he could and laid it on the entryway bench, then reached up to undo Hannibal’s tie. Hannibal moved to touch Will, but Will stayed his hand.

“No,” he said, and continued to undress him. He bent to his knees and removed Hannibal’s shoes and socks, placing them carefully under the bench, then rose to unbutton his shirt. He circled around Hannibal’s body as he removed his shirt, his fingertips grazing against Hannibal’s naked chest. Hannibal continued to breathe evenly in the dark as Will unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down over his hips and letting them pool to the floor. Then, finally, Will hooked a thumb into the elastic of his boxer-briefs, pulling them down to his ankles, careful not to touch his growing erection. When Hannibal was completely naked, Will stood before him and let his eyes slowly travel up and down his body.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Hannibal breathed.

Will kissed Hannibal slowly, reverently, each kiss a promise. _I want you_ , said the kiss to Hannibal’s upper lip. _I need you_ , said the kiss to his lower lip. _I am yours_ , as his tongue slid out and met Hannibal’s, _are you mine?_ as he clutched the back of Hannibal’s head to angle the kiss deeper.

“Yes,” Hannibal answered, tightening his arms around Will’s waist.

Will began to kiss a line from Hannibal’s mouth to his cheekbone, a sweet open parentheses. He raised himself on his toes, pulling Hannibal’s face closer, and gently kissed each eyelid. He moved to his other cheekbone, before kissing a line back to his mouth, closing the parentheses and sealing it with a swipe of his tongue against the seam of his lips.

Slowly, deliberately, his sank to his knees, met Hannibal’s eyes, and took him into his mouth. Hannibal groaned, open and raw. Will traced the line of him with his tongue, then began to place wet open-mouthed kisses at the base of Hannibal’s cock before licking a wide line up to the tip. He took the head into his mouth and suckled on it, circling the base with his hand and stroking gently, before descending and taking the entirety of Hannibal into his mouth, sucking hard and deep.

Hannibal grunted and fisted his hands into Will’s hair, but abruptly pulled him off and to his feet.

 “Let me take you to bed.”

It was a demand, not a question. Will took his hand and allowed himself to be led to what was no longer Hannibal’s bedroom, but very surely theirs.

Inside the bedroom, Hannibal began to undress Will, slowly removing his tuxedo jacket and planting kisses along his jawline. Will reached up to clutch at Hannibal’s forearms, already intoxicated. Hannibal showed little regard for tidiness and began to strip him desperately, throwing garments haphazardly around the room, and kissing each inch of flesh as it became exposed. Will helped him along by toeing off his shoes and socks, until they both stood naked and wanting.

They took each other in, admiring, memorizing every detail. Hannibal reached out a shaky hand and touched Will’s chest.

“What would you like, Will?”

Will had played this scenario in his head so many times, in so many filthy fantasies, but now all of them seemed foreign and cheap. He wanted so much more.

“I want you to open me,” he said, and Hannibal understood.

He guided Will gently to the bed and Will sank upon it, his body pliant and willing. Hannibal crawled up the bed above him and leaned down to kiss Will, licking his mouth and biting softly at his lips.

“I could kiss you forever,” he murmured, and buried his face into Will’s neck, humming into his pulse. Will sighed into Hannibal’s touch and ran his hands along Hannibal’s back.

“I wish you would,” Will replied.

Hannibal smiled against his skin and began trailing kisses along the line of his shoulder and then down his chest. He licked softly against Will’s nipple before biting softly, then moved his attentions to the other. His left hand brushed tenderly down Will’s flank before taking a firm grip on the inside of his thigh. He began to brush kisses lower and lower, dipping his mouth to Will’s stomach and nibbling at the tiny soft swell of belly that he had nurtured with months of rich food. He continued to kiss and lick downward, but ignored the trembling erect cock that was inches from his mouth.

“Hannibal,” Will rasped, “please…”

Hannibal rubbed his cheek against Will’s hardness like a cat, then gripped his right thigh with his free hand and spread Will open.

Will watched Hannibal’s head descend, and his toes curled as Hannibal licked one long path along the cleft of his ass, darting his tongue briefly against Will’s hole, over his sac and up the length of him, pausing at the top to place a hot kiss against the head of his cock. He then worked his way back down along the same path with his tongue, agonizingly slow, up and down for several torturous minutes. Will’s fists began to clench in staccatoed bursts against the sheets, and a low moan escaped him.

Hannibal smiled and hummed against his perineum before descending to lavish closer attention to his hole. He licked in firm, broad swipes, each one eliciting a shudder from Will. He stroked the inside of Will’s thighs with his thumbs, gently massaging, before moving his right hand up to Will’s mouth.

“Suck,” he said, holding out three fingers, and Will generously sucked them down, coating Hannibal’s hand. Hannibal moved his hand back down to slowly insert the tip of one finger into Will. Will hissed out in pleasure, and Hannibal began to work him with his hand, feeling him stretch under him. As Will relaxed into the sensation, Hannibal added a second finger, curving them into him to deftly rub at his prostate. Will keened and drummed his heels against the mattress. Hannibal added a third finger, continuing his ministrations with mouth and hand until Will was hot and open beneath him. Unhurriedly, he removed his hand and crawled back up the length of Will’s body.

“Are you ready for me, Will?”

Will could only nod. He felt blind and mute and everything above him was pitch black, except for Hannibal, the great North Star against the firmament of his soul.

Hannibal reached into the bedside table and took out a jar. He unscrewed it and scooped out a generous amount with his fingers, sliding it along the length of his cock. He traced the remainder around the outside of Will’s hole before dipping his fingers in again to more thoroughly coat him. He set the jar back on the table and hovered above Will, cock in hand.

Their eyes met, and Hannibal slid into him with excruciating slowness. They moaned together in unison, taking each other in in awestruck wonder. Hannibal stared into Will’s eyes, stroking his face with his left hand, dipping kisses at his mouth as he felt Will open fully beneath him. Will trembled from head to toe, more from emotion than sensation, and Hannibal began to move within him.

Quiet tears began to spill from his eyes as Hannibal kissed them away, rocking slowly.

“I didn’t know,” Will choked out, years of unspoken love blooming out of him, “Oh God, I didn’t know… I’m sorry…”

Overwhelmed, Will clutched at Hannibal, wrapping his arms around him, his eyes wild and searching and desperate.

“Shh,” Hannibal murmured, kissing him deeply with each thrust, “look at me.”

Will shifted his focus to Hannibal’s eyes and let his gaze fill him. Hannibal began to thrust deeper and harder, stroking against Will’s sweetest spot.

“I see you,” Hannibal whispered.

“I see you,” Will replied.

Electricity was tumbling hard and fast within his belly. Hannibal’s stomach grazed against his dripping cock with each thrust, and Will felt saturated with love, death, life, and rebirth.

He felt a glorious tightening within him, and he arched his back and cried out into the void.

The void answered and it was Hannibal, and the world was gone, there was only them, they were one and infinite and he heard the heavens weep and fall silent.

In the still of the silence was Hannibal’s voice, in him and around him, saying, “I love you. I love you, Will,” and at the sound of Hannibal’s mouth around his name Will came, sobbing and shaking, hurtling back to earth in an explosion of fire and sweet primordial agony.

Hannibal held Will as he came, their bellies slick with sweat and come, stroking Will’s hair as aftershocks ripped through him. Panting wildly, Will unwound his arms from Hannibal’s neck, and took his face in his hands.

“Hannibal,” he breathed, kissing his mouth as though it were rare and precious and could break, “Hannibal, I love you so.”

Hannibal ceased his thrusting, planting himself deep within Will and pressed his face to his, stroking at his cheek, his mouth, his hair.

“Please… again…”

Will kissed him back in time, through five years of need and solace and hurt, his mouth a compass.

“I love you,” he said, and Hannibal heard him throughout centuries. He came inside Will with a quiet cry, like a benediction, holding him tight and whispering his name in consecration.

They lay there together entwined, building the new fabric of their memory palace, rooms upon rooms filled with this moment and nothing else but the quiet dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's a [Cava-lon](http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images24/CavalonMickeyCavalierKingCharlesSpanielPapillonHybridDog1.jpg) (King Charles Spaniel/Papillon hybrid).
> 
> And the [Barcarolle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4B39SppH9JI) from Tales of Hoffmann.  
> Thanks for all the lovely feedback and encouragement!


	3. Chapter 3

Sunlight filtered through the Venetian blinds. Will blinked awake lazily and took in his surroundings. Hannibal was pressed back against him - as he had been a week ago - but his embrace was laced with a new intimacy. His right arm held Will close against his chest, open palm splayed against his heart, and his forehead rested against the crook of Will’s neck. Will stretched into the embrace, and this time did not tense as he felt Hannibal’s hardening cock graze against his thigh. Instead, he turned into Hannibal’s embrace, planting gentle waking kisses along the line of his shoulder. Hannibal was stirring out of sleep, and Will basked in how innocent he looked in the last grips of slumber. The light from the blinds dappled across his cheekbones in chiaroscuro. Will had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

Hannibal’s eyes began to drift open, and a hint of a smile curved his mouth. Will leaned in to kiss the smile and claim it as his own, tracing his left hand down Hannibal’s side, letting his fingers dip and graze slightly against Hannibal’s arousal. Hannibal sighed softly against Will’s mouth, tipping his hips into Will’s touch. With a firmer hand, Will pushed against Hannibal’s side, rolling him onto his back, and straddling his thighs.

They drank each other in in the dawn light, wordless, memorizing this first morning and casting it in stone. Will ducked his head to kiss Hannibal again, a whisper of a touch against his lips before moving down his neck to lick and suck against Hannibal’s pulse, absorbing the thrumming beat of his heart. He began a trail of light, teasing kisses along Hannibal’s broad chest, taking each nipple in his mouth and trailing the tip of his tongue around it before moving lower, placing firmer, biting kisses against Hannibal’s stomach. Hannibal whimpered against his mouth and shifted his hips, his cock now fully erect and beginning to drip. Will marveled at the knowledge that he could bring Hannibal to pieces so quickly, and began to lick the lines of Hannibal’s hipbones, stopping to suck against Hannibal’s inner thigh.

Hannibal reached a hand to Will’s hair, tangling his fingers, grabbing a fistful then letting go and sliding through, his thumb pausing to stroke the line of Will’s cheek before dropping his hand back to his side. He was at Will’s mercy and wanted him to know it.

Will granted him clemency at this submissive gesture, turning his head and licking a clean wide line along Hannibal’s cock, up and to the tip before taking him in his mouth and swallowing him down.

Hannibal gasped, beating the heel of his hand once, twice against the bedsheet. Will smiled around his cock and moaned from the back of his throat, the vibrations sending twin tremors down Hannibal’s spine. Will began to suck slowly, his palms flat against Hannibal’s thighs. He curled his fingers into Hannibal’s skin and hollowed his cheeks, his head a steady rise and fall as he held Hannibal in his mouth and licked him up and down. He moaned again, a deep thrumming sound that hit the head of Hannibal’s cock, and began to stroke the pads of his thumbs against Hannibal’s thighs, kneading the pleasure out of him.

Hannibal’s hips began to rock slightly against Will’s mouth, and Will gave Hannibal a squeeze and tilted his head to deepen the angle and encourage him. He reached up with his left hand, locking his fingers into Hannibal’s and glancing up to meet his eyes. Hannibal was staring at him as though we were a saint bathed in God’s light, here to grant him absolution. Will began to quicken his pace, moving his right hand to trace the line of Hannibal’s sac before brushing an experimental thumb against his hole.

Hannibal hissed out a sharp breath and Will pressed again, harder, then moved up to take the base of Hannibal’s cock in his hand and stroke firmly as he continued to suck with abandon. Hannibal’s hips were jerking steadily against Will’s mouth and he released Will’s hand from his, his fingers shaking tremulously against the side of Will’s head in desperate need. Will leaned his head into Will’s hand, felt the fingers sink into his hair and pull. Hannibal was trying desperately to speak, but could only mouth out a plaintive “W-”, and then he was coming tight and hard into Will’s mouth, Will sucking him down as he spasmed beneath and inside him. He swallowed slowly, releasing Hannibal from his grip and climbed back up his body.

“Good morning,” he said, and kissed him soundly. Hannibal grasped the back of his neck and deepened the kiss, turning on his side and pressing his sweat-glistened skin against Will’s. He broke away for breath and regarded him fondly.

“You have taken to the practice of being with a man quite naturally,” he observed with a lilt of his mouth.

Will shook his head, curling his fingers against Hannibal’s face and tracing a line down his cheekbone.

“I’ve never wanted to be with a man,” he replied, “I still don’t.”

Will moved his fingers down to trace the lines of Hannibal’s mouth.

“But I want to be with you. Do you understand?”

Hannibal did not respond, but Will watched his eyes grow wet. “It’s important that you understand this -us.” He gestured between their bodies. “It’s important that you know what you are to me.”

Hannibal nodded then took Will’s face in his hands and kissed him, deep and fervent.

“I understand,” he said, “that you are a rare prize that I must hold in my keeping until I can no longer breathe.”

He kissed him again. “Even then, I will hold you to my breast until we are nothing but ash and memory.”

Will shook his head and chuckled.

“You could have just said ‘I love you too’.”

-x-

Will learnt quickly that while he was right to believe that Hannibal could only make love to him, it did not mean he could not make love to him with force and vigor. He spent several mornings bent over the kitchen countertop, gasping and clutching for air as Hannibal hungrily ate his ass before taking him violently, grunting into his skin and tugging at his cock as they both came in hoarse shouts. Sometimes Will would ride him in the study, Hannibal sunk back into his armchair, his hands dug into Will’s ass as Will painted sloppy kisses along his jawline. But Will relished in the moments of quiet intimacy, when Hannibal whispered his name as he came, their eyes meeting with a deep and mutual yearning that tugged at the string tethered between their hearts.

They picked up Dante three weeks later, and Will was chagrined to find that their new puppy clearly had a preference for Hannibal. He yipped and licked eagerly at his face when they came to greet him, barely acknowledging Will’s presence.

He hoped it would change when they came home, but that evening he found Dante curled around Hannibal’s ankles in the study. The next morning he was sitting attentively at Hannibal’s side at the kitchen, tongue lolling out and eyes shining. Hannibal threw him a scrap of sausage, and Dante licked his fingers in thanks.

“It is only because he met me first,” Hannibal said as he took in Will’s frown, “I’m sure it will change.”

“You conditioned him to like you, didn’t you?” he pouted, “That’s why you went to meet him by yourself first.”

“Could I do such a thing?” He smiled, kissing the corner of Will’s mouth. “You will be his favorite before the end of the week.”

For two days Will showered Dante with affection, buying a surplus of brightly colored toys and lavishing him with treats. Dante accepted all of his gifts graciously, but with an air of resigned aristocracy that Will could only describe as Hannibalesque.

“Come on, Donny,” he pleaded on the third morning, “I’m really trying here.”

“You know his name is Dante,” Hannibal said with an arch of his eyebrow.

“I’m not calling him that.”

“Very well,” he said, dicing meat into neat portions and throwing a chunk into Dante’s open mouth.

Will stewed silently and sat down forcefully on the kitchen stool.

“Don’t pout, Will”, Hannibal said, sliding an arm around his waist and kissing his shoulder, “I do not like it when you are sullen.”

Will resisted the temptation to lean into Hannibal’s embrace.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

He shrugged Hannibal off and crossed his arms, and Hannibal returned to his work silently. Will could feel the quiet hurt radiating from him and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, crossing to Hannibal, “I’m glad you got us a dog at all.”

He wound his arms around Hannibal’s waist and rest his head on his back, placing a kiss between his shoulders.

Hannibal set his knife down and turned to look at him.

“Your petulance is not charming.”

Will used Hannibal’s shift in position to his advantage, moving his hand down to squeeze the curve of his ass.

“Good thing I have other charming qualities,” he said, and winked.

Hannibal huffed, and Dante huffed behind him. Will stared at the dog in disbelief and Hannibal hid a smirk.

“You too!” he exclaimed, and threw his arms up in exasperation. He pointed a finger at Hannibal. “I didn’t sign up for two of you.”

Hannibal smiled. “I don’t believe either of us signed up for anything, Will, yet here is where our lives have taken us.”

He gathered Will back into his embrace. “Would you change it?”

“Not for the world,” Will said, and kissed him.

He began to open his mouth to Hannibal’s, softly touching his tongue to his, when he felt a soft thwup against his ankle. He broke away from Hannibal to see Dante sitting at his feet, staring up at him with soft, expectant eyes.

“It would appear he likes it when you kiss me,” Hannibal said, smiling at the dog.

“That’s ridiculous.” Will said, shaking his head, but he kissed Hannibal again. Dante rubbed his head against Will’s calf.

“Are you kidding me?” he muttered against Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal laughed into him.

“Alright, _Dante_ ,” Will said, “you win”, and he reached a hand down to pet his head.

Dante licked his hand and rest his head in Will’s palm, letting out a contented snuff.

“Goddamnit.”

-x-

“Would you let me claim you?” Will said against Hannibal’s thigh one evening. They were in their usual formation in the study, Hannibal seated and Will leaning between his legs on the floor. Will was relaxed against him and stroking absently at Hannibal’s calf with his right hand. Dante sat curled up by the fire, tail thwapping softly against the thick carpet.

“You have already claimed me, Will,” Hannibal said, stroking his hair, “You claimed me before you knew you had power or right to.”

“No, I mean-” Will shifted to face him, resting his cheek on Hannibal’s thigh, “ _claim_ you.”

“Oh,” Hannibal breathed out softly, “oh.”

Will felt the low shiver of excitement beneath his cheek. Hannibal wanted this too. Will had brought him to the brink of madness with his mouth and hands, but the thought of being inside Hannibal, of taking him so thoroughly seemed an almost sacred thing, and he wanted to indulge in that communion. He wanted to fill Hannibal as he had been filled, with light and reverence and deep ineffable love.

 “I didn’t know this was something you desired, Will.”

“I didn’t either, at first. But yes,” he said, “it is.”

Hannibal reached to cup Will’s cheek in his palm.

“Of course,” he said. “Would you like to tonight?”

“No,” Will replied, pressing a kiss into Hannibal’s hand.

“But now that I know that I can,” he leaned up, eyes suddenly dark with want. “Know that I will.”

Will licked against his mouth and felt Hannibal shudder against him. He reached down to unfasten his trousers and free his rapidly swelling cock.

Hannibal came under his hand within minutes.

-x-

The next day, Will returned from his morning run to find the front door ajar.

The foyer was dark and there were dark stains along the floor. Blood.

He heard a small whimper from within the coat closet and quietly opened the door. Dante was inside, shaking in terror but unharmed.

Will slid his pocketknife out of his pants and unhinged it. It was a little thing, but with an expert hand he could do enough damage to instill a lifetime of regret. A very short lifetime.

He toed his shoes off and crept silently down the hall. A low groan came from the kitchen and his breath caught in his throat.

He turned the corner to see Hannibal slumped against the kitchen island, his shirtfront stained a dark crimson. He was clutching a wound on his arm that was weeping blood. A few feet away from him lay a man, face down, a red pool billowing out underneath him.

Will raced to Hannibal’s side.

“What happened?”

“Frederick Chilton, apparently.”

“What?”

“It would seem our Frederick has a desire for my skin to replace his. This man was a mercenary sent to collect his bounty.”

Hannibal clutched at his arm and winced. “Fetch me a towel if you please.”

Will handed him a towel and Hannibal began to staunch the wound.

“It is superficial,” he said, then gestured to his shirt, “the rest of the blood is not mine.”

He looked forlornly at Will, “I’m sorry I killed without you.”

Will slid his hand around the back of Hannibal’s neck, pressing his forehead to his.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

He tilted his chin to press a kiss to Hannibal’s brow. “Can you stand?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal stood, holding the towel to his arm and surveying the damage.

“He made a terrible mess of the kitchen.”

It was true. Now that the immediate danger had passed, Will could see broken glass strewn about the floor and countertop. The refrigerator door was swung half upon with a nasty dent in its front, and the stove was spattered with shallow pools of blood. There was a knife on the floor next to the body, coated almost entirely red.

An icy shiver ran the length of Will’s spine as he took in the scene. He saw it play through Hannibal’s eyes, saw how brutal the fight had been, how close the kitchen knife had come to gutting him.

“He almost killed you.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I am alive,” Hannibal said.

Darkness overcame him, and Will seized Hannibal, angrily crushing his mouth to his, then releasing him with a shove.

“How bad’s your arm?” he said, but with frustration instead of tenderness.

Hannibal glanced at his wound. He had tied the towel around it in a makeshift tourniquet. “The bleeding has mostly stopped,” he said, “it’s fi-”

“Good,” Will growled, “get in the bedroom.”

Hannibal blinked at him once, then nodded. “Yes.”

He started down the hallway and Will followed, stripping himself and flinging clothes haphazardly behind him.

Hannibal entered the bedroom and sat silently on the bed.

“Take your clothes off,” Will bit out, and began to tear at Hannibal’s shirt. Hannibal slid his trousers off as Will gripped him in a frenzy, biting and scratching at Hannibal’s chest and arms.

“You’re mine,” he ground against Hannibal’s mouth, digging his nails hard into skin, the world around him forgotten. “Mine. No one can touch you but me.”

 “Yes,” Hannibal replied, and bit hard into Will’s shoulder.

Will shoved gracelessly at Hannibal, rolling him until he was on his hands and knees. He stepped back to admire the picture, Hannibal bent over for him and only him.

He began to stroke his swiftly hardening cock, staring at Hannibal with lust-hooded eyes.

“Look at me,” he barked, and Hannibal met his gaze with equal fire.

“No one else,” he said harshly, “no one can take you from me.”

He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and poured it into his hand, climbing onto the bed behind Hannibal and slathering his cock. His hands shook uncontrollably and lube spilled over him, onto the mattress, down the backs of Hannibal’s thighs. Will grunted in approval at the sight.

He reached forward and rubbed two slick fingers against Hannibal’s entrance before pushing them roughly in.

Hannibal rocked back against him and snarled as Will stroked him mercilessly.

“Mine,” Will said again.

“Show me,” Hannibal replied.

Will removed his fingers and took his cock in his slickened hand. He pressed himself against the tight ring of muscle and began to push inside, Hannibal’s heat slowly surrounding him. He grabbed Hannibal’s left hip in his hand and squeezed, hard.

 “Claim me,” Hannibal said, and arched back, taking Will even further into himself. Will stuttered out a moan and Hannibal rocked back again, harder, engulfing Will to the hilt.

Will shouted out in shocked pleasure and bent nearly in half, biting into the flesh of Hannibal’s back. Hannibal groaned, low and guttural.

Will rose and began to move within him, grasping Hannibal tightly and thrusting in long, hard strokes.

“I claim you,” he grit out, “no one touches you. No one but me.”

“No one,” Hannibal replied. “I belong only to you.”

“Only I can hurt you,” he said, digging his fingers into Hannibal’s side, “only I can be inside you.”

“Only you.”

Will began to thrust faster, deeper, a dark rage within him needing to engulf Hannibal in his entirety, take him within himself so that he could never again be touched by anyone in this world or the next. Hannibal moved roughly back against him, equally desperate and brutal.

Will reached forward and gripped the back of Hannibal’s neck.

“Never,” he said. “You can never leave me,”

“Never,” Hannibal swore, “ _Never_.”

His thrusts grew wild and feral as he fucked deep into Hannibal, panting and growling,

“Tell me,” Will said, “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Will Graham,” Hannibal’s voice rumbled like thunder. “Forever.”

Will gave one last violent thrust and held himself tight against Hannibal’s ass as he came, soundlessly and mouth open wide, tremors wracking through him.

He felt himself return to earth and exhaled shakily, lifting his hand to drag the sweat from his face. It wasn’t sweat. He realized he was crying.

He trembled and fell forward, pressed his face into Hannibal’s shoulder, feeling his skin on his. He wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s stomach and held him tight.

“No one can take you from me,” he said, tears falling into Hannibal’s neck, “not ever.”

Hannibal reached up to stroke his arm, leaning into Will’s touch, grounding him.

 “Will,” he said, pushing gently back at him, then more insistently, “Will. Come to me.”

Will released Hannibal from his grip and slipped out of him with a sigh. Hannibal turned over and pulled Will down into his embrace, gathering him into his arms. Will curled his head into Hannibal’s neck and held him from chest to shoulder. It wasn’t close enough. He shifted so his entire body was on top of Hannibal’s, one long seam of skin upon skin. Hannibal stroked his back as Will let the last of his sobs leave his body, holding him tightly and dropping kisses to the top of his head.

“I’m sorry,” Will said, “that’s not how I meant it to be.”

“What would you have had it be, Will?” Hannibal replied. “We can make love in the stillness of the dark or in the heart of conflagration, love still remains.”

“But… I didn’t hurt you?”

Hannibal laughed lightly. “We have left innumerable scars upon each other, Will. A little soreness will pass.”

“However,” he said, slowing his lulling caresses on Will’s back, “we may want to dispose of the body in the kitchen now. Dante is probably inspecting it for scraps.”

-x-

They wrapped the body in plastic and buried it in the back yard, then set to work cleaning the kitchen. Long hours of scrubbing and lifting left them tired and sore, and Hannibal’s arm was still healing. Will drew them a bath in the master bathroom, opening one of Hannibal’s bath oils and running it under the stream. He guided Hannibal into the tub, and lowered himself in behind him.

They lay there quietly, steam rising from the water and filling their nostrils with the scent of lavender and and sandalwood. Hannibal dropped his head back against Will’s shoulder. Will kissed his hair and sighed quietly.

 “One day we’ll die, and it won’t be old and holding hands in our bed.” He stroked Hannibal’s chest through the water. “You know it won’t.”

“It will be in rage and fire,” Hannibal said. “But death has never parted us before.”

He rested his hand on Will’s arm and rubbed his thumb lightly against Will’s wrist.

“Do you think I have not already died a thousand times by your side? By your hand?”

Hannibal took Will’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

“Even as I am alive I am your ghost.”

He raised Will’s hand to his mouth and kissed it softly.

“There is no depth or breadth to be measured in my love for you. How then could it be measured by death?”

“Hannibal,” Will began, but words failed him, so instead he slid his free hand around and began to stroke low at his stomach. He saw Hannibal’s cock twitch through the water and began to trace teasing circles lower.

“Mmnn,” Hannibal murmured lazily and nudged his head against Will’s cheek. Will bent slightly to press kisses along the shell of Hannibal’s ear.

“I claimed you,” he said, “do you know how you’ve claimed me?”

“Tell me,” Hannibal whispered.

Will traced insistently lower until his fingers brushed the head of Hannibal’s cock.

“You’ve claimed me with scars on my skin,” he said, “and with scars inside my heart.”

Hannibal groaned low and deep as Will took him in his hand. He began to stroke, planting open mouthed-kisses against Hannibal’s shoulder on the sweep of each upstroke.

“You’ve claimed me with your body,” he murmured hotly against Hannibal’s skin, “with your mouth, your hands…. Your cock.”

He stroked more insistently, taking their still-linked hands and holding them over Hannibal’s heart.

“You claimed me with this,” he said, “before I had a name for it.”

Hannibal rocked his hips up against Will’s hand and spilled out a soft moan.

Will kissed along Hannibal’s ear and the side of his jaw.

“You claimed me as I claimed you. There’s no difference now.”

He gripped Hannibal firmly and rubbed against him, water slick on their skin.

“I am yours, love. Surely as you are mine. Until time loops back on itself and unties us. Even then,” he said, “I would find you in the dark before either of us had a name.”

He released the link on their hands as Hannibal turned to curve an arm around and cradle Will’s head, drawing his face down to kiss him, their tongues meeting deep and wet.

Will drew Hannibal’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking and biting, stroking his cock harder.

“Will you come for me?” he asked, and Hannibal acquiesced with a soft ‘ah’, kissing open o’s against Will’s neck and jaw.

They lay there breathing each other until the water grew cold, then retired to the bedroom and back into each other’s arms.

“We shall have to move now,” Hannibal said, forlorn. “They know where we are.”

“Fine,” Will said. “I don’t care where we go.” He rubbed his cheek against Hannibal’s chest. “This is home.”

Hannibal smiled and smoothed a hand down Will’s back, kissing the top of his head.

“But,” Will added, propping himself up on one elbow, “our next house needs a bigger back yard.”

Hannibal quirked an eyebrow. “For bodies?”

“For another dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends this little saga of porn with a dash of plot. I might have to subtitle it "[Love, and a bit with a dog.](http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0005350/quotes)."
> 
> Thanks for the feedback everyone! Long Live Murder Husbands!

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! My first smut! God Bless Hannigram.  
> tumblr: [lovecrimevariations](http://lovecrimevariations.tumblr.com)


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